


Apt to Shatter

by TortiQuercu



Series: The Grandrookie [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TortiQuercu/pseuds/TortiQuercu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a sweet torture, to love each other but not to show it. Grant and Skye adjust to life in the aftermath of confessions. Rated a strong T, Skyeward. Sequel to Beautiful Wickedness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apt to Shatter

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, for a story that I had envisioned as a one-shot, it just keeps going and going! In retrospect it should have been a chapter piece, so I apologize for doling it out all chopped up like this.
> 
> This is a sequel to Beautiful Wickedness, which itself is a sequel to A Heart Given to Know Me, which is a sequel... blah blah, you get the idea. Basically, don't read this one first. Start with Under His Skin, please. :)
> 
> This was written for NothatRose and emmy-kent! Skyeward to the max.

One month had passed.

One month since Skye had opened her eyes and come home. One month of excruciating physiotherapy, of shared tears and determination. One month and she was almost whole again. One month that Grant knew he was thoroughly and completely in love with her.

Ward glanced up from his book to watch her. She was still working at her laptop, unraveling a chain of offshore Centipede accounts. He lived for stealing glimpses of her like this now…. something about Skye when she was focussed was so damned sexy. She was chewing her lower lip and frowning. His brain dumped a load of adrenaline and dopamine into his system. Dammit… she had done it to him  _again_ , and she didn't even know it.

…. or did she? Skye looked up from her computer and calmly met his dilated gaze. She smirked and continued to type. "How's your book, Agent Ward?" she asked coyly.

"Insufficient," he responded drily, and she cackled. "How's the digital paper trail going?"

"Frustratingly," she replied. "I'm starting to develop a serious dislike for the Cayman Islands Monetary Authority."

"Want to go punch stuff for a while?"

"Sure," she smiled. "Lemme just wrap this up and change. Meet you in the cargo bay in fifteen, okay?"

And promptly fifteen minutes later, he was watching her bounce down the stairs in her sweats. She arrived at his side with her hands outstretched. What started as a simple check of her hand-wraps had now become a secret ritual.

Ward took her hands one at a time, slowly rubbing his thumb across the tape and pressing his fingers into the pulse at her wrists. It was an addiction for him now, to know that she was alive and her heart was still beating for him. He ran a languid hand up to her forearm and smiled as her skin goose-bumped. She still felt electric to him, a month of stolen touches doing nothing to dim the fire that surged through him each time they made contact. Less than ten seconds, that's all he allowed himself, and he pulled away.

"Okay, Rookie, let's see five minutes of jab-cross-hooks. Figure you're up to some lunges after that?"

"I can take whatever you're dishing out, Robot," she replied with a sparkle. She stepped up to the heavy bag and rolled her shoulders.

Feeling audacious, Ward stepped in close behind her and began gently kneading the muscles at the base of her neck. She hissed lightly, eyes darting over to the lab where FitzSimmons were puttering around the lab.

He leaned in close to her ear. "There's been a tragic shortage of dark corners to accost you in recently," he murmured, his voice making her entire body hum.

Her pulse was pounding as she slid away from him. She faced him across the gym bag, her breathing heavy. "You're cheating," she chastised him as she began to throw punches.

"All's fair in love and war," he responded in amusement.

"Don't you go quoting Shakespeare at me!" she said with a saucy grin.

Grant groaned. "Oh my God, Skye. It's Cervantes, not Shakespeare."

"Whatever!"

He leaned forward to hold the heavy bag as she pummelled it. " _Don Quixote_ , Skye. You should read it," his voice turned low and sultry. "It contains gems like, ' _there were no embraces, because where there is great love there is often little display of it.'_ "

Her punching rhythm slowed and her cheeks flushed. Internally, he cheered. That was a direct hit. Her expression turned mischievous. In a single smooth action, she pulled her hoodie up over her head and returned to her workout in just her tank top.

Ward gave her a flat stare. "Now  _that_  should be against the rules."

She gave him a quizzical look. "I was hot," she said innocently. He bit his tongue, staring at the rivulets of sweat slowly trickling a path between her breasts. Unbidden images assaulted him, of how gorgeous they were beneath her shirt, how they felt under his tongue, the scar tissue covering much of her abdomen. The latter he found strangely erotic, something that bothered him for a while until Skye admitted she was proud of her scars. They were a sign that she was alive, she was a fighter, and she had done something brave (foolhardy and stupid as well, yes, but ultimately courageous in a very un-Skye-like way).

They were curled up together in his bunk when she told him, the only opportunity in the previous month they had been left alone on the bus together for a length of time. They had made the most of it; she had finally recovered enough from her injuries that  _she_  was the one who shoved him against a wall and pressed herself so hard against him that he was gasping for air. They hadn't even made it to a bed that first time, he had ripped her shirt and she had coiled her legs around his waist and  _damn._ He'd taken her right there against the bulkhead, he couldn't slow down once she started whimpering and clutching at him. He carried her to his bunk afterwards, where they spent the next several hours talking and touching and writhing under each others fingers.

At some point, his lips had ghosted apprehensively across the scarred and puckered flesh, his eyes on hers to gauge her reaction. Skye had smiled shyly and said it was okay. He had lain his head down on her stomach as she told him how she felt about the permanent reminder of what happened in Italy, and he had never felt more proud of her than he did at that moment. "You're beautiful," he had whispered against her belly, causing her to chuckle throatily and reach for him again….

Skye cleared her throat, snapping Ward out of his dreamy reverie. "Earth to Robot," she teased him.

"I was in my happy place," he informed her stoically, bringing his eyes back up to her face.

"Oh, I bet you were," she grinned at him.

"Alright, troublemaker. Take three steps back, lunge, jab, and back again. Five times."

Ward had Skye running through speed drills for about twenty minutes when Simmons came out of the lab and greeted them cheerfully. "Got some news," she told them. "Changed course for the UK. They asked Fitz to give a couple of presentations on Centipede's ocular camera in Cardiff and London, so Coulson decided to give the three of us some time off when we land at Heathrow, isn't that great? I'm going to visit my mum and dad… umm.. you're welcome to come with, if you'd like…."

Grant was motionless and Skye smiled brightly. "Awww, naaaah. That's super sweet of you, Jems, but you should enjoy your visit without your rude American cousins tagging along…. asking what Marmite is and shouting 'pip pip, cheerio!' at everyone."

Simmons laughed. "You wouldn't…. I hope. Are you sure? I can recommend some nice places to stay around London…"

"It'll be fun," Skye assured her. "Maybe I'll visit Buckingham Palace and go on that big ferris wheel and see if I can hunt down Martin Freeman and profess my undying love to him. Ward can tag along if he wants to," she added, as though it was an afterthought.

"That sounds great," he replied drily. "I'd love to stalk Bilbo."

"Um, hello, Weirdo? I was thinking more the Dr. Watson Martin Freeman," Skye rolled her eyes.

"You two," sighed Jemma, shaking her head. "You really shouldn't be so hard on each other, you know. I bet your relationship would be so much more pleasant if you tried to get along a bit better."

Skye and Ward exchanged a dubious look. "I dunno, Simmons," Ward said. "I'm her SO. It's my job to be hard on her."

"And I'm a relentless brat," concurred Skye. "It's  _my_  job to heckle Secret Agent Mandroid here when he starts to get a little too insufferable."

Simmons frowned. "Well, you should think about it," she insisted. "You should spend some team-building time together in London. In fact, I insist. Oh! I remember a lovely little Victorian B&B near Hyde Park, I'm booking you both in. You can thank me when you get back."

"Uhhh… okay, then," Skye replied, and Simmons practically skipped back to the lab to make travel arrangements.

"You  _are_  a relentless brat," Grant murmured at his rookie as they both watched Jemma through the glass.

"I know," Skye agreed. "Maybe you need to try harder to keep me in line."

"That sounds like a challenge."

"Oh, you best believe that it was, Robot. I'm gonna hit the shower then pack for our team-building exercise. See you on the ground at Heathrow."

Ward shook his head slowly as he watched her sashay up the spiral stairs. A few days in a London hotel with Skye? God save the Queen.


End file.
